But half an hour’s conversation completely captivated her.  Mrs. Lloyd had traveled through Europe, and spoke in a familiar way of the celebrated personages whom she had met abroad,—­talked of art, music and architecture, literature, artists and literary men—­displayed such high culture and easy acquaintance with themes quite above the range usually met with among ordinary people, that Mrs. Emerson felt really flattered with the compliment of a visit.

“My good friend, Mrs. Talbot,” said Mrs. Lloyd, during their conversation, “has spoken of you so warmly that I could do no less than make overtures for an acquaintance, which I trust may prove agreeable.  I anticipated the pleasure of seeing you at her house last week, but was disappointed.”

“The interview of to-day,” remarked Mrs. Talbot, coming in adroitly, “will only make pleasanter your meeting on to-morrow night.”

“At your house?” said Mrs. Lloyd.

“Yes.”  And Mrs. Talbot threw a winning smile upon Mrs. Emerson.  “You will be there?”

“I think not,” was replied.

“Oh, but you must come, my dear Mrs. Emerson!  We cannot do without you.”

“I have promised my husband to go out with him.”

“Your husband!” The voice of Mrs. Talbot betrayed too plainly her contempt of husbands.

“Yes, my husband.”  Mrs. Emerson let her voice dwell with meaning on the word.

The other ladies looked at each other for a moment or two with meaning glances; then Mrs. Talbot remarked, in a quiet way, but with a little pleasantry in her voice, as if she were not right clear in regard to her young friend’s state of feeling,

“Oh dear! these husbands are dreadfully in the way, sometimes!  Haven’t you found it so, Mrs. Lloyd?”

The eyes of Mrs. Emerson were turned instantly to the face of her new acquaintance.  She saw a slight change of expression in her pale face that took something from its agreeable aspect.  And yet Mrs. Lloyd smiled as she answered, in a way meant to be pleasant,

“They are very good in their place.”

“The trouble,” remarked Mrs. Talbot, in reply, “is to make them keep their place.”

“At our feet.”  Mrs. Emerson laughed as she said this.

“No,” answered Mrs. Lloyd—­“at our sides, as equals.”

“And beyond that,” said Mrs. Talbot, “we want them to give us as much freedom in the world as they take for themselves.  They come in and go out when they please, and submit to no questioning on our part.  Very well; I don’t object; only I claim the same right for myself.  ‘I will ask my husband.’  Don’t you hear this said every day?  Pah!  I’m always tempted to cut the acquaintance of a woman when I hear these words from her lips.  Does a man, when a friend asks him to do anything or go anywhere, say, ‘I’ll ask my wife?’ Not he.  A lady who comes occasionally to our weekly reunions, but whose husband is too much of a man to put himself down to the level of our set, is permitted the enjoyment of an evening with us, now and then, on one condition.”